


Mother's Day

by D_f_m22



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_f_m22/pseuds/D_f_m22
Summary: It's mother's day and Missy thinks Nardole deserves recognition for his mothering.The Doctor reminds Missy she's a mother herself.





	Mother's Day

**Author's Note:**

> A small one shot in honour of mother's day tomorrow.

The Doctor tapped his red pen against his desk and cast a weary glance towards the lofty grandfather clock stood on the corner of his office.

 

6.35pm.

 

Bill wouldn’t be coming to her tutorial today, something about taking on an extra shift at the canteen. The Doctor had stopped listening when she said she’d need the evening off. It was too early to go down and see Missy, they’d wind each other up when he was this bored and she was…Well, while she was locked up she had even less patience for his boredom. The Doctor wished for a distraction. Nothing major, it didn’t have to be world-ending, It just had to be something to stop him reading another essay on gravitational pull that used outdated earth theories and physicists.

 

With a resigned sigh, the Time Lord spun his pen through his fingers and made to start marking again. It was then that a miracle happened…An egg-shaped miracle that was usually more of a nuisance than a miracle came storming into his office.

 

Nardole burst in- a flurry of nerves and impatience as he waved a small card in his hand.

 

“We need to talk,” the Cyborg squeaked.

 

“Okay,” the Doctor said instantly.His pen hit the table faster than the speed of light and he crossed his arms on the table in anticipation. “Let’s talk.”

 

“I know, I know you’re busy with humans and…” Nardole paused and looked up in surprise. “Wait, what did you just say?”

 

“You want to talk, let’s talk” Nardole blinked and stared at the Doctor for several seconds. It was strange to have such a quick compliance from the Time Lord. “Right…Well, that was easier than I expected,” he said honestly.

 

He looked down at the card in his hand and as though he’d just remembered what he came in for, he looked back up at the Doctor. “It’s about Missy.”

 

“I suspected as much.”

 

“She’s given me a card,” the Cyborg said as though he’d been given a poisonous snake.“It was very unnerving, sir. She was doing that creepy little smile and everything.”

 

“A card- oh the horrors!” The Doctor declared.

 

Despite his sarcasm, the Time Lord stood and met Nardole on the other side of his desk. His eyebrows furrowed as he took the small yellow envelope and scanned it with his sonic. A gift from Missy was rarely a good thing. Especially if the recipient wasn’t him. The scan came up clear- there was no sign of poison or narcotics or any other sign of an intention to harm. Of course, he hadn’t read the contents of the mysterious card. It could be another scathing message from the Time Lady, scalding the cyborg for his carelessness when making her bed and subsequently breaking one of her experiments (an experiment that she shouldn’t have been doing in the first place and was hiding under her duvet). Words were better than violence though and if Missy was starting to use them, it was a progress of sorts.

 

“It’s not hazardous,” the Doctor said. He passed the envelope back to Nardole. “Why don’t you open it?”

 

Nardole eyed the envelope with a look that was equal parts suspicion and curiosity. Curiosity won and his chubby fingers ripped open the sealed envelope. Enclosed was the most spectacular handmade cards Nardole had ever seen. There was a landscape of a night sky that was complete with shooting stars and a moon. The landscape was animate- stars twinkling and shooting across the A-5 card. The Doctor looked over the cyborg’s shoulder, enthralled by the creation and a tiny bit concerned the Time Lady had trapped an entire planet in a card. After several seconds, Nardole opened the card and read its message.

 

_Dear Nardole (Look at that Eggman, I’m being nice and using your proper name and everything! I still think it’s a very silly name though),_

 

_Anyway, I digress… Earth is a silly little planet and it has some silly little traditions. The newspapers I’m allowed to read (yes, those boring ones with all the juicy bits about murder and bombs cut out) all had sickeningly sweet advertisements about one of these traditions- a so-called Mother’s Day. Apparently, it’s a day to celebrate the person that nags you and makes sure you’re fed and behaving and, I don’t know, some other boring stuff._

 

_TBH (look at that, down with the kids. Tell Mr. Grumpy Pants, **that’s** how you stay relevant), I’m already growing bored of writing this card and can’t remember why I started in the first place… Boredom, probably. You should both get me some more toys and books. Yes, boredom and something else…Oh yes, Mother’s Day- for the ones that nag and care and nourish. It’s come to my attention that day is this Sunday (of course, I don’t know that that’s tomorrow because the time filters are so effective- wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.) So, in light of tradition, here’s a card for the one who nourishes and nags! _

 

**_Happy Mother’s Day!_ **

 

_[If I had it my way, there would be exploding confetti here but according to your nagging, that sort of thing isn’t allowed] Hugs and kisses and ~~punches and kicks~~ Missy _

 

_XOXOXOX_

 

Nardole and the Doctor looked up at each other and blinked in confusion.

 

“That would have looked really cool with the exploding confetti,” the Doctor said eventually. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t let her have a tiny bit. There’s no harm in moderation.”

 

The cyborg shot the Doctor a tired expression. It was a look that said he wasn’t going to even contemplate the suggestion.

 

“Why has your psychotic best friend given me a Mother’s Day card?”

 

“Well,” the Doctor started (himself a little confused by the situation). “You do have some mother hen tendencies.”

 

Nardole huffed and made a noise that sounded decidedly like clucking.

 

“See!” The Time Lord exclaimed. “You’re clucking.”

 

“I am not!” Nardole scowled. “Sir, do you think this is a practical joke? We all know what happened last time she tried one!”

 

“It might be a joke,” the Doctor mused. “It might also be a cultural misunderstanding. Remember the incident with the effigy on bonfire night?”

 

“I still don’t think that was the misunderstanding she claimed it was.”

 

The Doctor looked down at his papers with a guilty expression and clasped his hands on his desk.

 

The incident with the live effigy probably hadn’t been an accident but it had been very early in her rehabilitation. At that stage, the Time Lady hadn’t quite understood that a thousand-year sentence meant that she’d have to remain in the Vault always, or that she couldn’t set traps, nor could she set anything she caught in those traps on fire. Every process faced some teething problems.

 

“Missy has never bothered to learn about Earth traditions before. Normally, she’s only interested in killing the planet’s occupants and taking it over. This time, it’s different- she’s learning about cultural norms and history and traditions. She’s alien to this planet, Nardole, she’s bound to get a bit confused about some things.”

 

Nardole bit his lip in consideration and shrugged. He was finally appeased enough to take a seat.

 

“I suppose,” he said thoughtfully. “But, look at me- I’m a bald, male cyborg. How could she think I was anyone’s mother?"

 

As he spoke, Nardole reached for a ginger nut from the plate of assorted biscuits on the Doctor’s desk. The Time Lord resisted the urge to bat his podgy hands away and instead watched as crumbs fell down the cyborg’s front after each noisy bite.

 

“Are you really bringing gender in to this?” The Time Lord scoffed. “We have been on Earth too long!”

 

“You know what I mean sir!”

 

“Mother has a different translation on Gallifrey. To us, it’s a slightly different concept and the Earth word for mother is just a simplest way of translating.”

 

“What does it mean on Gallifrey?”

 

The Doctor sighed in consideration and reclined back into his chair.

 

“It doesn’t refer to just one person, it can refer to lots of different people that come into a person’s life at different stages. The term ‘mother’ in Gallifreyan is more an idea than a label for the person who bought a person into the world. We have a much longer life span than so many in other species and we end up in different phases and with different types of relationships. Parental relationships are…tricky. Most of us are loomed and taken away from our parents when we’re young so I guess there’s not the same bond that other species form with their young. We do, however, have individuals who come into our lives and act as something akin to a maternal figure. Missy’s been in lots of institutions and prisons over her life where her autonomy has been taken away and she is dependent on another. She’s never had someone that hasn’t abused that responsibility. Well, she hadn’t until you. I rather suspect Missy has likened your relationship to her to our Gallifreyan concept of maternal care. She’s seen the adverts for Mother’s Day and probably got confused.”

 

Nardole took a contemplative bite out of his biscuit and nodded.

 

“Well, it could be that. Or,” he paused for effect. “It could just be another elaborate joke.”

 

“It could always be that,” the Doctor agreed. “I should go down and see her to find out what it was really about.”

 

“Ah no you shouldn’t sir,” Nardole said. “She said she was organising her knicker drawer and you were not to come down and disturb her. Also, she says you absolutely must get those essays marked because she will not be helping you if you leave it until the last minute again.”

 

The Doctor frowned. It wasn’t often she didn’t want him to visit but it happened from time to time.

 

“She said that?” He checked. “In those words?”

 

“Yes,” Nardole said. “And she put it in writing too. Here,” Nardole said and passed another sealed envelope to the Doctor.

 

“Rather clear then.”

 

“Yes, sir. Now, I’ll leave you to get on with those essays.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

 

The Doctor left it until the Sunday afternoon before venturing into the Vault. By that time, he’d had a chance to mark the essays and think over Missy’s odd actions the day before. He’d also had the chance to reminisce over their individual experiences they’d had as both parents and children on Gallifrey. It had led the Time Lord to stop at the card shop on the way to see Missy.

 

Upon entering the Vault, the Doctor is met with the sight of Missy hunched over the table. Her furrowed eyebrows showed she was deep in concentration as she completed the crossword.

 

“Hello,” she trilled, not looking up. “What brings you down here?”

 

“I thought I’d pop in. I haven’t seen you since Friday, I thought you might appreciate a friendly face.”

 

“Oh yes? Do tell me when the friendly face arrives…I promise I’ll try really hard not to hurt them.”

 

The doctor tutted, without any real intent, and pulled out a chair.

 

“Why did you make Nardole a Mother’s Day card, Missy?”

 

“He opened the card?” Missy asked, looking up hopefully for a minute before disguising her face. “Did he like it? I mean, I don’t expect him to have a good taste or anything but he might appreciate the gesture…”

 

"It was a kind thought Missy. Even kinder now I've confirmed there was no anthrax enclosed and it was a genuine act of niceness."

 

Missy smiled and preened under the praise.

 

"I know it was nice, I am engaging with the process," Missy said, popping her lips. "Now we're both agreed I’m Little Miss gGod, can you explain why you're giving me the Spanish Inquisition about all this? And why did the egg scarper? I gave him the card and he went all pale and ran away! I was really hurt…In all the adverts, the mothers smile and tear up and start hugging you!"

 

"Nardole's not you Mother, missy" the doctor said. "He's not anyone's mother."

 

"But in gallifreyan, mother translates to..."

 

"We're not on gallifrey, missy." The doctor said, cutting her off. There was no time for another, lengthy cultural explanation. It had clarified her intentions, though. He wouldn’t ask if it had been a joke, she’d only try to wiggle out of genuinely nice act. "We're on earth and a mother is the woman who raises a child from infancy to adulthood. Usually, they've brought the baby into the world too and given this new human life."

 

Missy pulled a face and crinkled her nose in disgust.

 

"Yes, they do tend to spawn." The doctor moved his chair closer to Missy and pulled out a lilac envelope inscribed with her name on it. Sliding it across the table, he watched with anticipation. "By those definitions, you're a mother."

 

Missy looked at the card and then the Doctor. Her expression was riddled with confusion as her fingers coiled and uncoiled around the table edge.

 

"I am?" She looked down at the card quietly. “Is that for me?”

 

It wasn't a good day for her memory. There were days like this for both of them- days where they forgot things that had happened centuries ago. Sometimes it was forgotten because of how much time had passed and sometimes it was suppressed because of trauma. For Missy, forgetting about her daughter was one of the most common events that she’d forget. It was the one that the Doctor always wanted to make sure she could remember. In fact, this regeneration was the first time in several bodies that Missy had mentioned her daughter at all. It had caught him off guard, how casually she would mention her, and it was a sure sign she hadn’t properly remembered her. It was like she remembered enough to make a throwaway remark but nothing else. Since the Vault, the Doctor had been able to talk to her about her daughter. In the calm and safe environment, she’d started to remember more. More things to do with her daughter that had really happened. Some days she remembered more than others, but she was starting to remember and that was something.

 

Carefully the Doctor reached out and covered Missy’s hand with his. She was still staring at the card and he gave her mind a gentle mental nudge. Missy blinked and looked up at him and as she did, he silently asked permission to move closer; to get more intimate. Missy nodded, and he slid his hand under her top. His thumb ran along an ancient scar, brushing the rigid skin with gentle strokes.

"Yes," he said before placing a gentle kiss to the side of her head. “Yes, the card is for you and yes you’re a mother. You brought your daughter into existence. I was there, and she was laid on your chest and you raised her for three whole years."

 

Missy shook her head.

 

"We don't do things like that at home."

 

"Not normally, no" the doctor agreed. "And you shouldn't have had to do it, we aren’t made for that kind of thing, but you did it. You did it amazingly Kos. It's okay if you don't remember right now, it's okay to forget."

 

Missy closed her eyes. A memory so fresh she felt like she was reliving it crossed her mind. She could smell the fresh morning dew in the lowlands of the village mountains, feel the ever-increasing, burning pain until a new and overwhelming sensation struck. It was warm and light and she was so in love with it. She could still feel the lilac and yellow aura intermingled with her own consciousness. It was always present, somehow. Always in the corners of her mind and not quite in touching distance...

 

"I don't remember," Missy said hoarsely. The doctor nodded and pushed a strand of hair from her face. "That's okay. Maybe you will tomorrow. Do you want to open the card?"

 

Missy looked down at the card and traced over the letters of her name. Turning towards the doctor, a smile formed.

 

“Not right now,” she sighed. It felt nice, to have the Doctor so close to her physically and mentally. She could feel his hands on her stomach and in her hair and the gentle presence of his mind. “Will you come and lay down with me?”

 

“Okay.”

 

XXXXXXXX

 

The Doctor felt warm and comfortable when he awoke in the darkened Vault, though there’s something missing.

 

“Missy?” The Doctor half yawned when he realised what was missing. “Where are you?”

 

There was a few seconds’ silence followed by a small noise. The Doctor activated the lights and searched the room, looking for the Time Lady.

 

“I’m here, dear,” Missy said from where she was sat crossed legged on the kitchen floor. In her lap sat the opened card, envelope discarded on the floor. “You needn’t send out the search party.”

 

The Doctor pushed back the covers and walked across the floor to meet her. He examined her face and tried to gauge how she felt about the card and whether it had struck a chord.

 

“You opened the card,” he said casually.

 

“I did,” Missy confirmed. “I certainly did.”

 

“What do you think of it?” He probed gently.

 

“It’s nice,” Missy nodded. She smiled but it was vacant and showed no recognition. “The flowers are pretty.”

 

The Doctor sat next to her and clasped her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

“They are pretty, but I want you to read the message in it. Have you read it?”

 

“It’s just an old name and a Gallifreyan date,” Missy shrugged as she looked back down at the card.

 

“Do you understand it?”

 

“I think so,” Missy hesitated. “It’s her name, isn’t it? And her birthday.”

 

The Doctor nodded and kissed the side her head.

 

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, that’s right.”

 

Missy nodded and placed her hand over his.

 

“Thank you for the card,” she said earnestly. “I don’t remember her at the moment, but I know she was real. I might remember her tomorrow.”

 

“You might,” the Doctor confirmed with a small smile. “Now, will you do me a favour and promise to ask me about earth traditions before you scare Nardole half to death again?”

 

Missy smiled and stretched her legs out in front of her, waggling her bare feet.

 

“Oh Doctor,” Missy laughed. “That was just a little joke.”

 

“A joke, eh?” He laughed, unconvinced.

 

“Yup,” Missy nodded. “I gotcha!”

 

The Doctor didn’t believe her for a second.

 

“You got me.”


End file.
